


Disjointed (When The Glue Is Gone)

by sapphire2309



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 15:21:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1134238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphire2309/pseuds/sapphire2309
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Losing Coulson, even temporarily, feels like what you might imagine losing a hand or a foot would put you through, except that all of them are just so numb that there's no pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disjointed (When The Glue Is Gone)

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS till 1x10
> 
> Written for the fandom_stocking challenge, for coreopsis (on Dreamwidth)

They feel disjointed, the five of them on the bus. Losing Coulson, even temporarily, feels like what you might imagine losing a hand or a foot would put you through, except that all of them are just so numb that there's no pain.

It's really difficult to start moving again when the person who's gone is the one who would have been in charge.

It's their job to get Coulson back, obviously, but they have no idea where to start.

Skye takes charge of Ace, which isn't as easy as it might seem. It's heartbreaking to watch such a small child move around robotically, eating as much as he can without wanting to throw up, sleeping without the customary fuss and (thankfully) not dreaming.

He's lost his entire world where they've only lost pieces.

Once he's asleep, Skye doesn't know what to do. She saw Fitz-Simmons fidgeting with something in the lab a while back, she can still hear Ward beating up a punching bag and she isn't stupid enough to try and join May in the cockpit right now.

Also, her internet nanny prevents entertainment of the questionable kind (such as hacking SHIELD).

She wanders into Coulson's office and seats herself in one of the visitor's chairs. It's as good a place as any to sit around and do nothing.

She bites a little of her lower lip and then worries away at it, knowing full well that it's going to bruise.

She doesn't mind the slight pain. It's better than being numb.

-:-

There's rarely been a time when Ward hasn't liked having a human opponent, with or without superpowers. A human opponent is something that exists in the same realm as he does, is roughly the same size. It's something he can fight.

But these people are slipping out of his- of their grasp like Vaseline-coated eels, and they haven't even left a trail of breadcrumbs that he can use to hunt them down.

The punching bag is a poor substitute, but it's the only one he has.

He beats the life out of it.

-:-

The cockpit is like a time capsule. No matter what happens elsewhere on the plane or in the world, it stays the same. Same buttons and switches and levers, all with the same functions. It's very predictable. It's almost safe.

But, as always, May's mind drags her back to reality. She can't forget what happened.

It's a weight that's easier to carry than the weight of older, more painful memories.

Maybe she's a terrible person for being completely okay with what's just happened, even appreciating it a little for giving her an easier, more manageable load to bear.

-:-

There's only a certain number of times that you can check whether various pieces of machinery are in working order.

Fitz and Simmons go far beyond that number, almost enjoying the mechanical motions, the monotony.

Their brains are just occupied enough to keep them relatively numb.

-:-

They land at the Hub.

Nobody wants to move, to stop doing what they're doing (or not doing).

May doesn't have that option (they're a little low on fuel, and besides orbiting the Earth, there isn't anywhere else to go) so she hunts everybody down and gets them moving with a simple, effective glare.

Skye carries a sleeping Ace, Fitz-Simmons have backpacks full of smaller pieces of equipment that could use a go-over, Ward carries his anger and May has the weight of the past (distant and recent) and the responsibility for everybody else.

Skye tucks Ace into the bed assigned to her, again.

In an unusual gesture of kindness, Ward says, "He can have mine, I'm not going to sleep in it."

Fitz chokes out a hollow laugh. "None of us are about to sleep, mate."

They sit on the floor, somewhat in a circle, determined to fix their broken family, but with very little idea of how.

It's Ward who speaks first. "We just need to find one piece of the solution each. Not the whole thing by ourselves."

Skye cracks a smile. "You remembered."

"It worked once."

"More than once," Simmons cuts in. "Right, May?"

May isn't in the circle anymore. She's at a computer with her back to them, reviewing what footage they have from satellite intelligence and street cameras.

Fitz smiles a little. "We talk too much."

They follow May's example and cling on to even the tiniest thing they can do that might help and hope that it somehow pays off.


End file.
